


More than survive

by Yellowbirdbluetoo



Category: The last kids on earth
Genre: !!, Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Jack deals with being alone, M/M, They’re all around 15/16, Yes this is a BMC title get off my dick, Zombie Apocalypse, ill add to this later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2020-11-08 17:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20839148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yellowbirdbluetoo/pseuds/Yellowbirdbluetoo
Summary: It’s been a week. One week of loneliness and one week of sulking. Maybe he should get off his ass and try to survive?





	1. I just wanna survive

**Author's Note:**

> So, ‘The last kids on earth’ (tlkoe) has a teeny tiny fandom, but since there isn’t any fanfic for it, here it is.

The first day is the worst day. 

His walkie-talkie is broken, leaving him with no way to contact Quint. His foster family left without him, and he’s stuck up in a treehouse with nothing to eat, and no one to talk to. 

Great. 

-/-

He’s alone, so very alone, so he lets himself cry that night. Big tears sliding down his cheek, he sniffles loudly, wiping his nose with his sleeve. 

He’s allowed some self-pity. 

There’s nothing to really sleep in here, besides his foster brothers old bean bag chair, and it smells like old bologna but it’s better than the hard wooden floor. 

He’s not used to sleeping in silence. In the group homes someone was always up and hustling and bustling about, and even with this foster family, they were almost unbearably loud, but he could sleep through nearly everything. 

Except silence. 

He’s exhausted technically. Psychically. Emotional. 

But falling asleep proves harder than usual. 

He can’t stop crying. He’s nearly hyperventilating at this point but no ones around to hear it, so he just keeps crying until finally he’s got nothing else to give and he falls asleep. 

-/-

Waking up the next morning hurts nearly as much as last night, because it’s a reminder that it’s all real. Not a super nightmare. People are zombies, monsters are everywhere, and he’s all alone. 

-/-

It takes a week(after finding the loot box of his foster-brothers old snacks) before he leaves to go ‘forage’ for food. 

There’s a mini-mart down the street(he and Quint have made many trips there for emergency sleepover snacks) and he gets as much junk food as he can carry in a few plastic bags he’s found, and makes his way back. 

The zombies along the route are something he didn’t account for. 

It’s a lot of kicking, and bag swinging, and he loses a whole bag to some undead huge construction worker. (There goes his sour gum) 

He takes a while to just breathe once he gets back into the treehouse. He also managed to pick up the wake-talkie pieces. And, they’re not completely broken. 

Maybe... maybe he could fix it? 

Maybe he could talk to Quint?

Sounded like an impossible feat, but hey, if he was going to survive in the zombie apocalypse, impossible would just have to become a part of his vocabulary.


	2. Houston do you copy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack isn’t sure what’s more scary, not calling Quint at all, Quint not answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plz kudos and comment if u enjoyed!! Thx!

This is dumb. He’s being so dumb. 

He spares a glance at the repaired walkie sitting on the floor in the middle of the treehouse. It’s been a day since he’s fixed it, and he still hasn’t done anything but turn it on and off just to make sure it worked. 

But now what? 

Obviously he should be calling Quint. He should’ve called Quint as soon as he had put in those four double A batteries. 

He hadn’t. 

Why? Because he was scared. Terrified, even. 

He’s been up most of the night, glaring at the stupid device, and woke up from a nightmare, and still couldn’t get near the thing. 

See, normally, Jack Sullivan, zombie apocalypse survivor, was brave. Like most of the time. He could bash a zombie head with confidence, and was getting pretty good at the whole ‘not-screaming-in-terror- as soon-as-a-he-saw-a-monster’ thing. 

But this was different. He had been so focused on getting the walkie fixed, that he hadn’t thought of other stuff. 

Like what if Quint didn’t respond? 

What if he had been... what if he wasn’t... 

See! This is why he didn’t wanna think ahead. Quint was super smart, there was like, a 0% chance, that he’d been zombified. 

But if he had... it’d just be another loss.

Jack snuck another look at the walkie, and groaned. Why couldn’t he do this? He buried his head in his curled up knees. 

Deep down inside, Jack felt some fear, at not knowing. He’d never really liked being alone. Making friends with Quint at the beginning of this year had been amazing!

And now he was supposed to just let that go? With a deep breath to surge his confidence, he stood, stormed over to the walkie and slammed the on button, and before he could think of putting down or throwing it in a panic, he shouted, ‘Quint this is Jack! Jack Sullivan! I’m alive! I’m super alive, and I bet your super alive! We’re both definitely super alive!’ 

No answer. 

‘Again, Quint! I know your there, I know it cause your really smart! And like there’s no way you’d let yourself get zombified! So like, just answer back, okay?’

Still silence. 

It took him a second to realize his hand was shaking, as he spoke again, his voice on the verge of breaking. 

“Quint?.... are.. are you there?”.

Silence. 

Dammit. 

He held the walkie tighter, as if that would magically make Quint respond. 

“Quint.. buddy?”.

Oh god, he was starting to hyperventilate. Clutching his chest with his one free hand, and letting the walkie drop from the other, he pinched his nose. (It was some old trick Quint taught him to help steady out your breathing during a panic attack). Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid-

“Jack? Jack, come in! This is Quint! Jack!-“.

Moving faster than he ever had in his life, Jack had scooped up the walkie and pushed it as close as psychically possible. “Quint! Your alive!”. He still wasn’t breathing quite right, and he knew his voice must’ve sounded strange but Quint didn’t comment on it. 

“Of course I’m alive! Sorry I didn’t get your message, I was out on a supply run! I just got back, Where are you?”.

Jack took a moment to recompose himself. “The treehouse, in my foster families yard. You?”.

“My house”. 

“Is your foster family there with you? Cause I don’t think I have enough stuff for all of them, so we’d probably have to get more stuff to-“. Of course Quint was already thinking ahead. “No”. Jack said tensely. He cleared his throat. “They, Uh... left without me”.

“...oh. Sorry dude, that’s a really shitty thing to do”.

“Yeah it’s whatever. Are your parents okay?”.

“I dunno. They went out on that cruise remember? But I know they’re fine”.

A moment of silence. Because Jack really doubts that, but he knows he shouldn’t say it. 

“Can I... y’know, come over?”. He asks, instead, like it’s a normal Tuesday night, and he’s going over to do homework. Like it’s not the zombie apocalypse and neither of them know if their ‘families’ are okay. Well Quint’s family anyways. 

Quint laughs over the line. “Uh, yeah! I’ve been going crazy over here by myself!”. Jack knows that’s not true, Quint’s really good at being alone when he wants to be, but he doesn’t voice it. 

“Oh thank god! I’ll bring all my stuff, or whatever I can carry at least. I’ll be there before it gets dark okay?”. He already moving around, shoving some clothes into an old duffel bag, and grabbing his (ex) foster brothers video games. 

“Keep your walkie on!”. Quint suddenly shouts, and if Jack didn’t know Quint, he wouldn’t have sensed the panic in his voice. 

“Dude, I’m not even gonna think about turning this thing off till I get there. Promise”.

He feels something suddenly, and he knows that it’s impossible (because Quint knows everything about science, and if it was possible he’d have told Jack) but he can FEEL the mutual relief and worry through the walkie, almost as if Quint was actually with him instead of 3 blocks away. 

“Okay. That’s all my stuff for now. Commence operation, get to my best friends house without being eaten alive!”.

“That’s a terrible name for a mission... but be safe!”.

And Jack smiles, a real smile, because he’s gonna get to see Quint again. And maybe if he can do that, then surviving the rest of the apocalypse should be a piece of cake. 


	3. No sleep creep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out living thru the literal zombie apocalypse isn’t great for ur sleep schedule. Or at least not for Jack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo plz comment and let me know if u have enjoyed the 1st two chapters!! I’ve only read the first two books(hoping to read the third tho!!) and seem the show. Let me hear ur comments!! Thx!
> 
> Also in canon they’re like 12, but here they’re aeound 14/15?? So excuse any strong language

His eyes fly open, and he somehow manages to clamp a hand over his mouth to contain the sudden scream that threatens to escape. 

He sits up suddenly, pushing the covers off. 

It’s been a few days since he’s gotten to Quint’s house. If they had both cried a little when reuniting, it wasn’t mentioned. 

He couldn’t say he was surprised that Quint had turned his house into a super cool, somewhat zombie-proof zone. 

He cast a glance at Quint, who slept peacefully in his bed. Jack was completely fine with the floor, but they’d managed to find an air mattress for him so they could sleep in the same room. There was some mutual reluctance to be separated for long amounts of time, after both being alone for so long.

He moved his hand from his mouth, and released a shaky breath. Standing silently and tip-toeing out of the room. 

He crept down the hall into the bathroom, wincing as he flipped on the light switch. He walked up the mirror, huffing as he squinted at the bags under his eyes. 

Quint was definitely gonna notice. And then he’d ask questions. And then Jack would have to answer them...

He sighed, dragging his hands down his face. “Ugh, What is wrong with me!”.

He should go back to bed, but going to sleep meant having dreams, and dreams quickly turned to nightmares. 

Staying up all night wouldn’t hurt too bad would it?

-/-

Yes. Yes it would. 

He had nearly dozed off in his cereal three times now, and Quint has for sure noticed. He blows a strand of unbrushed hair out of his face, and another yawn escapes his mouth. 

Quint raises an eyebrow at him from the other side of the couch. They’ve deemed Saturday a day for old cartoons. The cable was out, but Quint had tons of old stuff on VHS that they were slowly digging through. 

“Dude, are you good? You look like you haven’t slept in days”.

Jack blinked, sitting up straighter from where he’d been dozing off again. “Yeah”. He spoke around another yawn. “I’m great. Just peachy!”. 

Quint looks at him doubtfully

“You just seem... tired? You sure you don’t wanna take a nap or something?”.

Jack shakes his head, a smile forced onto his face. “I’m good. Don’t worry. Now shush, I wanna see Darkwing kick the bad guys ass!”.

And Quint leaves it alone. For now. 

-/-

Quint wakes suddenly to a yell. 

He sits up straight in bed, turning to see Jack, twisting up in his blankets and shouting something incomprehensible. 

Quint moves out of bed fast, moving over to hover uncertainly over Jack. He’s still asleep, tossing and turning, and just in general seeming upset. 

“Jack! Wake up!”. He gives his friend a shake and jumps back in surprise when Jack bolts upright and gasps loudly. He sits there for a moment just gasping for air.

He squints blearily into the darkness, before he spots Quint next to him and immediately lowers his gaze to his lap. 

“...bad dream?”. Quint asks after a moment, and Jack shrugs. Quint frowns. “Dude if something is bothering you, you know you can tell me, right?”.

“I’m fine. It’s fine?”. He covers his face with his hands. “I didn’t wanna bother you with it. I’m just...”. He trails off awkwardly and makes a weird motion with his hands. 

Quint frowns, and before he can say anything Jack flops back down and covers his head with his pillow. His voice is muffled when he speaks. “I keep having nightmares. And the only way to stop them is by not sleeping”.

“After three days without sleep the human brain starts to go a bit... loopy. Have you been having any hallucinations or paranoia”.

“Well it’s the zombie apocalypse, I’d say being paranoid is a good thing”. 

“...scoot over”. Quint says after a moment, exasperation clear in his voice, and Jack gives him a weird look, but complies. Quint snags a pillow form his own bed, and wastes no time getting comfortable on the air mattress. 

“What are you doing?”. 

“I read somewhere that sharing a bed with someone helps people with nightmares. You don’t mind do you?”. 

“N-no”. Jack stammers, and fixes his side, and they both lay down and silence fils the room. 

“...goodnight”. 

“Night. And thanks for doing this”. 

“That’s what friends are for”. 

-/-

Jack’s never shared a bed with another person before. Even in the orphanage, they had bunk beds, and blankets on floors, and all his foster families had always dumped him in a guest room or a couch, so he’d never really shared a bed with anyone. 

Waking up warm is nice. It’s so nice, that he’s reluctant to wake up at all. He snuggles back into the blankets, and lets out a content sigh. 

“Jack?”.

That’s weird. He doesn’t remember having a talking pillow. 

“Jack?”.

“Mmm... five more minutes”.

Then his pillow rumbles with soft laughter, and Jack blinks a lazy eye open. Quint is grinning at him, and Jack groans and rolls over. 

“Well I kinda have to use the bathroom?”.

Jack opens his eyes and retracts one of his hands from where it was curled up and gripping Quint’s shirt, allowing the other boy to maneuver himself out of the bed. 

The other boy plunks down on the air mattress, making Jack bounce a bit. “So, sleep better?”.

Jack nods. “No nightmares”. He’s a bit surprised. Had it just been that he needed a person in his bed? Was it the fact that it was Quint? 

Ugh, it was way too early for feelings.

“Can we get breakfast? I’m starved”. 

Quint, thankfully lets breakfast be mostly silent and it doesn’t come up again. They go through the day as normal-as normal as you can when part of your routine includes zombie proofing your perimeter- and too soon it’s nighttime again and Jack is settling back in on his ‘bed’.

Quinn settles in next to him without a word.

Jack bites his lip, pausing before speaking. “Thanks man”.

Quint gives a quick grin. “No problem”.

Jack sleeps better that night.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t mean to hint at Quint/Jack but it’s can’t be helped 
> 
> Also I don’t like how I wrote this ending but I need to post this now and get it away from me so HERE TAKE IT


	4. Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Am I a sap? Yes. Am I very proud of this chapter and is it my favorite so far? Yes. Did I stay up to almost 3 am to finish it, while listening to ‘Heart to Break’ by Kim Petras on repeat? Y E S.
> 
> Do I regret it??
> 
> No.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS SULITORO NOW SUCKAS 
> 
> Jackjune? Delivan? Okay no, I see why y’all went with Sullitoro.
> 
> Get this kid a fucking HUG
> 
> Also yes this is a song title for the chapter cuz I couldn’t think of anything else
> 
> Also also keep in mind they’re all around 15/16 in this story and a little more mature, because I think curse words are funny. And also older teens can usually (hypothetically) better handle some things(don’t take my word on that) (like srsly do NOT quote me on this, I am a horrible example)

Living with three boys was the last situation June Del Toro thought she would end up in during the actual apocalypse. She had been very against it at first but, was in fact warming to the idea. Not that she had much of a choice. Living in the school wasn’t the best solution long term anyways. She couldn’t live off of vending machines for much longer, and it would be better to not go crazy from isolation. So damn it all, why the hell not.

Quint at least had the decency to be tidy, and she had to admit, even if his inventions failed half the time, they were pretty cool. And even though she barely knew the guy, Dirk clearly had a soft side to him, given the way he used ‘puppy-talk on Rover and sulked when the monster dog had accidentally trampled the small garden he’d just started.

Jack Sullivan how ever was somewhat of a mystery. Not that she spent all of her time thinking about him. He just happened to be on patrol and she definitely WASN'T worried because he was taking longer than usual to get back. The guy wore his heart on his sleeve most of the time.

Jack was very... touchy. It’s something June learns after around two weeks of living in the Treehouse. Two weeks after leaving the school, defeating Blargh, and accepting that she was going to be living with three boys.

Learning that Jack was touchy didn’t take long. He was always the first to offer up his hand for a high five, to sling an arm around a shoulder, and to give a supportive hug(though those were rare didn’t last long). And when she’d gotten one last week she definitely didn’t have butterflies in her stomach. Nope. 

She had experienced Jack’s touchy-feelyness first hand and even if she wasn’t always up to be touched, he always moved away before it went on for too long. 

Normally, that is. But last week was a different story. It was another close call. They’d all had one at that point. The teeth of a corpse centimeters away from their skin. Last week she had narrowly avoided a bite to the leg as he’d managed to pull him out of a zombie building that had randomly started to collapse when they were out on a supply run.

The hug she’d gotten as soon as he had managed to help her stand up was a tight one. Her heart was still racing and she had a sharp pain in her leg but she was alive. She was going to survive to fight another day. She took a moment to listen to his hurried breathing and his quiet ramblings on if she was really okay and how scared he was. She had hesitated. And then her arms had slowly reached up to wrap around him and return the hug.

She hugged back that time. For the first time. Maybe it was the adrenaline or the fact that she’d nearly seen her life flash before her eyes, but she did. 

And he’d stiffened up, let his arms relax and pulled away, sheepishly looking anywhere but at her. He spotted her leg-it had only been bleeding a little- and the rest of the journey back was a blur. 

Quint has patched her up and she’d subsequently been put on ‘rest duty’ until she could walk without wincing. That’s why she was thinking about Jack. Because he had immediately volunteered to take up her supply runs and patrols. He didn’t even seem to mind it.

June had waved away any of his concerns, as he wouldn’t stop fluttering around her before he left. It was sweet. Nice. Annoying. Cute. In a totally, completely platonic way of course.

She had been content to brush off the incident, tuck away the little memory of them standing in near silence and hugging and the aftermath of awkwardness. 

But then she’d seen it happen again. Dirk had managed to patch up his garden, and had also found some more seeds in a nearby house(apparently their neighbor was a gardener as well). One of his plants had budded early, and Jack just happened to be in close range. Dirk in a rush of excitement had swept up Jack in a whirlwind, bone crushing hug, then just as quickly as it happened it was over and Dirk had rushed off to drag Quint to come see (apparently they’d had a bet over wether or not Dirk could actually grow something) and she’d been the only one to notice Jack’s reaction.

The same stiffening up, and a shocked/zoned out look on his face. Then he’d loudly announced he was going to go walk Rover and she’d been left to think about it. Was it bewilderment? Was he uncomfortable or just plain surprised? Wasn’t it entirely hypocritical to give out hugs and react strangely when he revived one? The reporter in her couldn’t let it go. 

And so the experiment began.

She started small. A light punch to the shoulder here, a returned high five there. And he seemed ecstatic about it too.

And then later one night, when they all retiring to go to bed, she’d hugged him briefly and the same reaction occurred.

“Are you...okay?”. She questioned.

And he’d blinked and nodded, seemingly dazed, returning a smile at her. “Yeah! Totally, yep. I’m just-“. He cut himself off. “It’s nothing, sorry”. And he turned to leave to his room, throwing a goodnight over his shoulder. 

“Jack”. She’d stopped him. “If you aren’t comfortable with hugging...”. She trailed off, not entirely sure how to continue in a way that didn’t end with him pissed at her for overstepping his boundaries. 

“If your uncomfortable with it, you can tell me and I’ll stop. I don’t wanna overstep-“.

“Wait what?”. He seemed confused, and released a nervous chuckle. “I don’t mind hugs”.

Thank god she had wasn’t pale, or her blush would be visible from space. “I just... anytime anyone hugs you, you kinda freeze up? I just wanted to make sure”. She scuffed the toe of her shoe against the wooden floor. God she was supposed to be a reporter, where were her confident words and striking questions? But then, she didn’t want to interrogate him. She just wanted answers. Damn it all.

He raised an eyebrow. “I do? Oh... I didn’t... I mean”. He paused to think. “Do I?”. And she nodded. 

“Oh I’m just, not used to it I guess?”. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d rather not talk about it, but it’s, kinda something new to me”.

And before she can stop herself, she strides over to him and wraps her arms around him. Loosely, and looks up at him, pushing away the thought of how unfair it is that he’s a smidge taller than her. “No one should be deprived of hugs”. Her dad used to say that. She pushed that thought away too.

And he does stiffen again. But after a moment he relaxes, and wraps his arms around her too, and she takes a moment to breathe in a watery breath. “You smell like... car air freshener?”.

And at that he fully laughs, and it shakes her a bit since they’re still embraced. 

“I uh... thanks for noticing?”.

And then they relapse into a comfortable silence, and eventually they let go. They exchange semi-awkward goodnights. And they separate to their different rooms. 

It isn’t until she’s closing her eyes, on the brink of dozing off, that she realizes. She might be falling for him. 

Damn it all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also this story will have Quirk eventually, I’m sorry for making y’all wait lmaooo but I promise it’ll be cute
> 
> Also this may have moved fast for June but it’s my story and I make the rules. I couldn’t see this happening with them being 12, but idk I feel like older kids have more emotional vulnerabilities?? Like 12 is middle school and ur kind of unable to emote? Because ur kinda your worst self in middle school. But I’m highschool(aged up fic remind) ur more open?? Like I for one hug my friends all the damn time and see a lot of hugging and affection in the halls so like LOOK I’m just sappy and this was the result. Also next chapter might be Quirk if I can figure how to write them and when to set the chapter at,


	5. They don’t know about us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quint and Dirk find an abandonment skate rink, and their relationship kinda spirals from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t ask me how shoe sizes for boys work, i don’t know. Apple their pants are sized differently too??? I-
> 
> yes the title is a song from Trolls, what’re you gonna do about it
> 
> ANYWAYSSSSS CONTINUE

It was becoming increasingly common that they get put on patrol together. 

With June unfortunately out of commission for a couple of days, patrol shifts had been moved around and they had been paired together more than usual. 

It wasn’t necessarily bad. Their friendship was a slow and budding flower(to use one of Dirk’s many plant metaphors) and the more time they hung the more of an actual friendship it turned out to be.

Dirk was less of an asshole than Quint had originally thought. The terrible bully in the school cafeteria was more of a gentle giant. Quint would almost laugh at the irony, if the guy hadn’t been giving him swirlies over a month ago. 

Still, June kept sticking them together on patrols to work out their issues and have a ‘heart to heart talk’. But of course they didn’t do that, because how does one even initiate that conversation? They choose to just not even attempt.

They walked around the middle town in a somewhat awkward, stifling silence, grabbing things from random stores and marking off buildings on the map as safe or unsafe.

The abandoned skating rink was found on the tail end of one of the patrols. He remembered the skating rink had been closing at the end of the previous summer break. He had stayed home on the closing night party’s studying for a science test.

He didn’t ask if Dirk went or not.

The place appeared completely abandoned, and Quint winced as Dirk managed to tear down the planks of wood blocking the door.

A flurry of dust flew up as the doors were pushed open and the two surveyed the area. It had only been closed for a couple months, and wasn’t falling apart like some of the towns older buildings.

Dirk huffed, waving his arm through the dusty to air to clear it away. “I remember when this place closed. They threw a pretty bomb party”. He nodded absentmindedly nodded, following Dirk deeper inside squinting into the darkness. 

He spotted a lightswitch on a nearby wall. “Ah! Here we go”. He flicked it a few dim lights flickered on overhead.

Dirk grinned. “Oh hell yeah!”. He strolled over to what looked a like a snack bar and slid over the counter, rummaging around. “This candy’s like, a month old...want some?”.

Quint hesitantly took a candy bar. He wasn’t entirely keen on consuming expired things since Jack had somehow convinced him to take a sip of some expired soda with the (untrue) claim of it tasting good, but he might as well indulge.

“You ever been skating?”. Dirk popped the question casually, as he popped an M&M in his mouth.

Quint shook his head, settling down on one of the nearby tables. He took a bite of the old Hershey bar, frowning at the taste, and pausing to think of an answer. “Not that I recall, no. I was never very athletic”. 

Dirk snorted. “Yeah, I noticed”. 

Quint narrowed his eyes and Dirk quickly backtracked. “Wait, sorry! Force of habit. My bad”.

Quint shrugged and looked away. 

“What shoe size are you?”.

Quint snapped his head back to face Dirk, who rolled his eyes and he stood and crossed the floor to stand in front of Quint, offering his hand out. “Shoe size?”.

Quint raised an eyebrow. “8”. And he lets himself be pulled across the building to what looks identical to the snack bar but is stocked with skates, and he realizes what is happened.

“Oh no”. He somehow slips his arm out of Dirk’s surprisingly gentle grasp. “I’ve never skated before. I can’t skate”.

Dirk doesn’t even turn from where he’s scanning the skate sizes. He plucks our a size 11 for himself, and continued looking for Quint’s size. “Duh. How you gonna learn if you don’t try?”. 

Quint shakes his head moving closer, only to get a pair of skates shoved into his arms. “Who said I want to learn? I never said I wanted to learn!”.

Dirk levels him with a look. “We have time. Besides it’s fun. Unless...”. He smirked. Oh that asshole-

“You scared?”.

Quint was grateful he wasn’t pale enough for his blushing to be noticed. He huffed. “No! I’m not afraid to put on shoes with wheels attached. This is just ridiculous. We’re supposed to be on patrol and-“.

“Hey”. Dirk is already pulling off his shoes and slipping one of the skates onto his right foot. “I haven’t skated since last summer. I won’t force you but c’mon dude, live a little”.

And Quint paused at that, because maybe he was right. Opportunity was quite literally knocking. So he sighs and sits down to unlace his shoes. “You sounded just like Jack right then, you know that?”.

Dirk rolled his eyes. “Ugh, do not tell him that”. And Quint huffs out a laugh. Then he realizes. “Uh, I still can’t skate”. Trying to stand is a challenge all its own and he discards his candy to holds his arms out from his sides to try and balance himself.

Dirk bit his lip as he skated over, and Quint pointed a finger at him. “Don’t you dare”. And the other boy held his hands up, placating. “Didn’t say nothing”. 

“C’mon”. He grabs Quint’s arm again, ignoring his flinch, and slight cry of panic as he wobbled and barely managed to keep his balance. 

The skate floor is rough, the wood is somewhat worn away in certain areas from not being cleaned or kept, but Dirk navigates it like is as smooth as butter, and Quint watches captivated, and in slight awe as Dirk skates effortlessly around the loop twice before coming to back to stop in front of where he was still clinging desperately to a wall to remain upright.

Dirk had a grin planted on his face, excited from the familiarity of the activity, and Quint instinctively wanted to match it. Dirk held out his hand again, and Quint hesitated momentary before taking it. He sucked in a deep breath and released his grip on the wall.

Immediately teetering and his other hand flew to Dirks jacket to steady himself and pointedly ignoring the others chuckle. His feet swiveled, grasping for purchase, and Quint momentarily freezes when Dirks other hands reaches around to hold his waist.

“You good, man?”.

Quint takes another breath and nods, trying to balancing and half-listening to Dirk try and explain how actually move and manages to stand without completely falling over.

“See! Your gettin’ it!”. He flashed another grin at Quint. “Okay, hold on”.

Dirk kicked off with one of his feet sending them both forward and Quint held on tighter as they slightly picked up speed. 

“You have to move your feet, or we’ll both fall”. 

“I told you I’ve never done this before!”.

“Kick your foot, dude!”.

Quint scrambled to push one of his feet back, to send them both moving forward again, and Dirk responded by doing the same and soon they were both moving forward(though Quint was still wobbling quite a bit) at a steady pace ‘This actually isn’t terrible’. Quint though, propelling them forward once again. It was actually kinda fun.

They make it one loop before unexpectedly slamming to a halt, the long laces of Quint’s roller skate apparently not being tied properly and tangling up in one of his wheels.

His arms shoot out on instinct and he feels Dirk’s hand grab his, and he’s spun around to grasp onto Dirk’s shirt and Dirk grabs him right before he can actually hit the ground. Their both out of breath and Quint looks up into Dirk’s eyes, once again glad his blush can’t be seen. He couldn’t say the same for dirk who had a red blush quickly spreading across his face. 

They’re gazes are locked, and they’re trapped in a frozen moment of time. He doesn’t even know how they haven’t completely fallen over but he can’t even think because he’s never really looked into Dirk’s eyes before. It sends butterflies into his stomach. He shakes the thought away, and the moment is over.

Dirk helps him steady himself and they both separate, Quint reaching out to grab the nearby wall, mutually avoiding each other’s gaze, equally embarrassed.

“Uh...”. Quint clears his throat. “Thanks for catching me”.

“..No prob“.

Quint is still trying to catch his breath and ponder on what that strange ‘moment’ was when Dirk’s hand lands heavily on his shoulder, and he can’t help it.

He flinches back, nearly falling over and moves back again when Dirk instinctively reaches out to help him.

“Woah! You okay-“.

“Sorry! I wasn’t-“.

They speak over each other and pause when they hear the other speaking. 

Dirk rolled his skate back and forth, seemingly nervous. “I’ve noticed you flinch... a lot.. around me?”.

“Yeah”.

“...why?”.

Quint frowns. “Why? Because you used to shove me in lockers everyday! You used to throw food at me during lunch! Because I’m used to seeing you and being ready to run away!”.

Dirk looked taken aback, frowns as he responds.”I don’t anymore! I know I used to but I don’t anymore! What.. what are you scared of me?”. He looks hurt as he asks and Quint’s grip on the wall tightened as he glared up at Dirk.

“It’s hard! Okay!”. He plunked down on the floor, and began angrily untying the laces of the skates. “Sometimes, you’ll put your hand on my shoulder and I feel like I’m going to be shoved in a locker again! A-and other times it doesn’t phase me at all! Am I just supposed to forget that you bullied me!”. He yanked another knot out. “I want to, I want to be friends but it’s just...”. He trailed off, his gaze trained on the ground. “It’s hard. I’m sorry”.

“Dude!”.

Quint looked up to see Dirk looking at him with feeling he couldn’t place in his eyes. 

“Don’t be sorry, man! You have every right to be pissed at me! You shouldn’t have to forget what I did! I know it was wrong now! Shit, I knew it was wrong then, but I didn’t stop”. He ran a hand through his hair. “And you’re right, I’ve been pushing it under the rug. I didn’t want to think about how much an asshole I was. But I need to accept that in the past, I wasn’t a great person”.

He moved away from Quint sitting down on the nearest table.

There was a moment of silence before Quint spoke up.

“... kind of a really shitty person”

“Yeah”.

“Like, major asshole”.

“Don’t push it...I’m sorry man”.

Quint gave a heaving sigh, and padded over to plop down next to Dirk. “I know. That’s kind of the worst part. I know you’re sorry, and I wanna put it behind us... but it’s like my brain still sees you as this...threat”.

“If it helps, I can totally stop being physical and keep my distance”.

Quint sighed again. “Maybe. I want to be friends. I wanna get over it I can’t forget about the past but, I can’t keep holding onto it like this”. 

He looked up at Dirk with a small smile, and Dirk returned it. “I need to replace the bad, scary memories of you with good ones”. He paused at Dirk raising an eyebrow in confusion. “If that makes sense?”.

Dirk slowly nodded, letting the idea sink in. “Okay. Okay. Let’s do this”.

Quint blinked. “What.. like now?.. Like right now?”.

Dirk stood, nodding resolutely, now a man on a mission. “Yep. I’m gonna start-“. He paused to effortlessly tug off his skates, laces be damned-. “By winning you one of those shitty plush prizes from that claw machine”.

“As charming as that is, you know they’re rigged to high hell, right?”.

He went to place a hand on Quint’s shoulder, but hesitated, choosing to look at him in the eyes again. “I’m proving myself”. He nodded his head towards the machine. “C’mon”.

-/-

Quint walks out of the skating rink holding a comically oversized ice cream cone, with a cheerful-if not unsettling- smile on its face.

“You definitely won the most embarrassing prize on purpose, huh?”.

“What? Nooo... c’mon on its cute!”.

“One of the eyes is lopsided”.

“It’s distinctive”.

“Oh, big word, don’t hurt yourself”.

“Watch it”.

They’re both smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goddddd this felt like it took foreverrrrr to finish. Part of this is based on how often I go to rollerrinks because I love skating, and honestly whenever I go to a rink I have to try and win a cheap claw machine prize, it’s almighty like a tradition. Let me know if y’all liked this(to the 15 other people in this fandom) and uhhh yeah time in for the next chapt er that’s in the works


	6. What doesn’t kill you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *chanting* JACK ANGST JACK ANGST

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW; this chapter is a little bloody... also like a curse word or two sorryyy. Also mention of puke for my fellow people with emetophobia

It was just supposed to be a standard supply run. Nothing more, nothing less. Of course, that’s exactly what didn’t happen 

Normally what they referred to as a ‘Close Call’ entitled a certain idea. Nearly being bitten, or snatched by a monster, being way too close to a collapsing building, stuff like that. 

Jack wasn’t sure what to call this, because definitely wasn’t close. Whatever monster had gotten him- he didn’t even see it happen- hadn’t missed.

He had a large gash on his shoulder, he was fairly certain he’d managed to sprain an ankle, and he was sporting a wound on his side that left his shirt nearly drenched in blood. Maybe that’s why his head was spinning? 

His hands hovered nervously over the wound in his side. He couldn’t even stomach the idea of looking at. He poked at it gingerly through his shirt , and tears sprang to his eyes as he to resist the urge to scream in pain, or pass out.

He settled for leaning over and throwing up. Was it weird that his puke was red? Has he eaten anything artificially colored recently? 

He came to to conclusion that maybe he’d be somehow managed to eat a pound of cherry airheads. Definitely the reason. Nothing else. It couldn’t be blood. It couldn’t be

He covered his mouth and his eyes widened at the sound of something being knocked over and a sharp hiss. Whatever had attacked him was definitely still prowling around. And with his mind getting more fuzzy by the minute, he had to find a way out of there, fast.

Unfortunately for him the Louisville slicer was across the room, seemingly miles away from his safety spot under an old office desk. And the office he was currently hiding in, was in the back of the grocery store he had been searching through. So all in all, he was a hundred percent screwed. His walkie had been knocked off along with his pack during the race to safety. It was anyone’s guess where they were. 

‘Okay think’. He turned and quietly slid open the desk drawer hoping to score something that might help in the slightest.

An old moldy banana, a stapler, some sticky notes, and a ruler. 

Okay so he was totally screwed then. Might as well go out not hiding under a table.

He snatches the ruler with one hand and the stapler with another, scrambling to force together a plan. He froze at the sound of a loud clanging and growling from the other side of the door to the office. Then the door creaked open.

Oh god he was going to die.

Something was creeping towards him, sniffing loudly and he held his breath, wincing again as he moved to cover his mouth.

This was it. He was done for. It was all over and he wouldn’t even get to say goodbye to his friends and-.

“Rover!”.

The monster dog, at the sound of his name relaxed from his stance and barked happily at Jack, tail wagging.

“Oh thank god”.

Jack could almost feel the relief flood his body but was distracting by the sudden rush of pain that came with it. 

Rover barked at him good naturedly, and Jack managed a shaky smile back, as he moved to try and stand. “Okay boy, we need to get out here before whatever that was tries to come and finish the job”.

But as he tried to stand the a stab of pain shot through him and he bit his lip to refrain from screaming.

He blinked and was on the floor again, Rover whining at his side and sniffing the side where his wound was. “H-hey boy... don’t worry I’m fine”. He reached a hand out to stroke Rover’s fur, wincing at the effort it took.

“Let’s try this again”.

It took another moment for him to manage to get upright and hook his fingers around the makeshift saddle they’d made for Rover. “That wasn’t so hard now was it?”.

Rover leans down so Jack can get on easier(it’s an uneasy feat) and it’s another moment of struggle, to push down the rising nausea and blink away the spots dancing at the edge of his vision. 

“I’m fine. It’s probably not even that bad”. He strokes Rover behind the ears, even though the effort makes his side scream in pain. He groans through his teeth. “Come in boy. I need to get back to the treehouse”.

Rover whines again, sensing Jack’s distress and takes off.

-/-

The ride is a blur of buildings and houses and at one point he has to get Rover to stop so he can hurl again on the side of the road. 

By the time the treehouse is in his line of sight, his stomach is churning and his mind has a strong fuzziness floating in it. What was he thinking about again?

Rover skids to a stop in front of the treehouse and Jack slides off of him, barely managing to stand, swaying dangerously, hand gripping Rovers fur, and shakes his head to clear away some of the fuzziness. It doesn’t work this time. The fuzziness sticks to his mind and makes it feel like sludge. 

Rover whines again and he hears something from the side of the yard. Oh. Dirk was gardening again.

“Rover! What’s wrong boy-“.

Jack followed his gaze down to his shirt and blinked in surprise. “...I’m pretty sure it was not covered in that much blood when I left”.

He blinks and Dirks right in front of him, talking and looking very freaked out. But Jack can’t comprehend anything he’s saying. It’s another blink and he’s somehow up in the treehouse and laid out on the couch.

“What do you mean he just showed up like this!”.

“I mean I was gardening and the next thing I knew he was there barely still standing and clinging onto Rover! He looked half dead!”.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god”.

“Okay calm down! Quint go get the medical supplies kit, and Dirk can you go get a towel or something. We need to slow the bleeding down”.

“How do you know what to do?”

“I watched a lot of Grey’s Anatomy, now go!”.

June’s face is peering over him and he huffs out a small laugh, that trails off into a wet cough. “You’re pretty when you’re bossing people around”. His voice sounds fuzzy to his own ears and he he laughs more at her annoyed look, noticing the rings of worry that accompanied it.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry”. He says... or tries to say. His mouth won’t operate. He blinks away the dark spots dancing at the corners of his eyes.

June is looking more worried then he’s ever seen her and there’s blood on her hands as she presses them hard onto the wound in his side. He cries out in pain, missing her exclamation of ‘sorry!’.

After a moment it dulled enough for him to open his eyes again... when had he closed them?

“Okay! I found the medical stuff!”.

Jack’s eyes close again, suddenly very heavy and someone’s fingers snap in his face. 

“-has to stay awake, just until we make sure the bleeding stops.. give him these!”.

Something solid is pushed into his lips and he leans his head away from it. 

“-won’t take them! He’s always hated pills!”.

“Then make him! It should help with the pain”.

He feels something burning on his side and his hands move to... well he’s not sure what... maybe push away whatever it is that’s hurting him. June’s voice is ringing in his ears, why isn’t she stopping him from getting hurt? Is she hurt? Is that why there was blood on her hands? 

As he opens his mouth(partly to speak and partly from another wave of pain) something is thrust inside and his mouth is clamped shut and he’s forced to swallow them.

“-good. The peroxide should clean the wound enough, I just need to wrap it”.

The fuzziness in his head starts again, or maybe it never stopped. His eyes slip shut and this time no one makes him open them.

-/-

To be continued in the next chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll probably get around to writing angst for each kid, so don’t worry if ur fave hasn’t had a turn yet
> 
> Also this chapter is just an excuse for Jack angst; THATS literally it


End file.
